My two weeks with a full-time work schedule have concluded and I am returning to a sense of normal. I am now also in greater sympathy with Mr. Duffy and others who work 40+ hours every week and still manage to do other things like cook dinner, mow the lawn and keep a hobby. For the first time in three weeks I opened the stack of mail which has been patiently waiting on my desk. Tomorrow I may even visit the post office for the first time in three weeks. I admit (and don't laugh, please) that neglected stacks of mail intimidate me which leads to further neglect. I couldn't have told you whose letters awaited me but the moment I leafed through them the familiar and friendly names lost their intimidating influence. I enjoyed opening each one and resuming the conversations of each. I relished the return of that satisfying feeling associated with pausing time and writing that I haven't had since my lifestyle change of becoming a working woman (though I must say that working in the activities department of a retirement community is more like play than actual work). Reading letters felt like putting on a comfortable pair of slippers or sitting down with a favorite, often read book. "This is more a part of me than I realized," I thought. Tomorrow I will respond to some if not all of them. Responding to all of them might be too ambitious because after so long a wait, each deserves my full attention and as you can guess, there is so much to tell.
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I confess, I have been daunted by the pile of letters I have allowed to build on my desk. I have been in a letter writing funk and I have kept my faithful friends waiting too long. I am without excuse unless it is an excuse to wait until I feel myself in a good frame of mind for conversation. This evening I rolled up my inky sleeves and got to work. I loaded my pen with Diamine Oxblood (red ink always helps) and sat down to catch up on correspondence. As I wrote letters I felt relief to see the pile dwindle and the familiar sense of pleasure return. When I do write I wonder why I do anything other than write. Of course, that is not practical. It is not even possible. So, thank you dear friends for your patience as you've had to wait then wait some more for a letter from Mrs. Duffy. I want to share with you part of my evening's enjoyment. Lady Pamela is quite the mail artist. She really put some effort and creativity into this envelope. I particularly enjoyed the quotes on the back of the envelope. Inspired by Anna's Traveling Tea Party she enclosed a tea bag. Tomorrow I will enjoy a cup of tea with Lady Pamela. Why did I never thing of using tea as an enclosure? It's the perfect thing, is it not? Mrs. Jean's envelopes are always a work of art. This one is especially enjoyable. "Non-Game Changers." Okay, quitting Facebook might be a game changer for some. Anna tells me about her letter mountain. I understand and am selfishly glad I am not the only one. I went from feeling this evening like a contender for the World's Worst Penpal prize to feeling that maybe I'm still in the game after all. The game hasn't really changed, I just had to step up to bat.
Hello. If you are waiting for a letter from me you have probably guessed that I am behind on my letter writing. I am also behind on blogging but I hope that letter writing readers are of a patient temperament. All is well, I'm just slow going and there are extra things to do and I'm not in a rush which slows things down a bit. I have a stack of mail to respond to but one particular letter keeps capturing my thoughts and will be bumped up to first priority when I sit down to write, hopefully tomorrow. So, Susie, I will respond to your letter soon. I can not write you a hasty letter, your letter deserves a thoughtful response and thought takes time. I have, however, been thinking about your letter and have a sketchy response composed in my mind. I'll get back to you soon.
In the mean time, I hope all of you are well and enjoying the warmth of the season. This Independence Day celebration was a grand one. Normally we stay home on the third and watch our town's firework display from the convenience of our street. One perk of living in a small town is that on such days of celebration people feel free to pull their lawn chairs into the street to watch the display. Traffic has never been a problem because everyone in town is either watching from their own yard, the city park, or paid the entrance fee at the high school bowl for a close up view. This year was different, however. We had an invitation from an aunt and uncle who live a few hours north of us to come up to their place for a barbecue. We could spend the night and return home after a pancake breakfast the following day. A week before said barbecue I learned that quite a few people had been invited and I knew this would be a lot of fun. On the day of the party we arrived at our uncle's house to find the back yard brimming with guests. Some were neighbors but most were relatives and some of those had come from quite a distance...from out of state, actually. One aunt had brought a stack of family photos she had neatly organized. The album with the old black and white pictures was the most interesting and made for the best stories. While a number of us were crowded around the albums passing around bits of family history, our host came up behind me and said, "This is your fault you know." Seeing my surprise he said, "Be careful what you wish for. You said you wanted to know the Northern Duffys." This is true. I had said that. A few months earlier I wrote a letter to my aunt and uncle saying that I knew the Southern Duffys pretty well because of family reunions in Southern California but after 22 years of being a Duffy I still didn't know the Northern Duffys well. To my amazement, the whole party had been arranged in response to that letter. The entire day was wonderful and yes, I did get to know the Northern Duffys better as well as meet a couple cousins for the first time. I think it is safe to say that the day was a blessing to us all and I am still enjoying the sense of amazement that so much came of a simple letter, the response to which was tremendous generosity. It is encouraging proof that even in the electronic age the handwritten letter is still an important and effective way to keep families connected.
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Letter Matters
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